


Husband and Wife, Cannibal and Psychopath

by ddagent



Series: The Pack Series [1]
Category: Operation: Endgame (2010), Ravenous (1999)
Genre: Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Married Couple, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colonel Ives has lived for many, many years, and has never found a woman quite like Hiero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Husband and Wife, Cannibal and Psychopath

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my Hiero/Ives fic! Please note the tags...this is not a fic for the faint of heart. Also, I couldn't find a canon Christian name for Ives, but previous Ives writers have used Francis and it just got stuck in my head. Anyway - enjoy! :D

Francis Ives had been many things in his time, _Colonel_ and _Cannibal_ the most prominent. The idea of him being labelled _Husband_ had never crossed his mind as he ran Fort Spencer, and the idea had certainly not seemed possible before he became a Wendigo. With his pallor and gaunt frame, he had had to pay for his first time with a woman and for many other cold nights after that. Since regaining his strength and developing a certain _charm_ , he still hadn't much luck with women.

 

That was, of course, until he met _her._

He had been stalking the arrivals section at the furthest Californian bus station from his home, interested to see if anyone looked good for supper. There were a few good candidates, some that would need fattening up but ultimately would keep him alive for a few months. Then he had watched _her_ get off the bus. Sweet little kitten heels, stockings like a proper lady. Pleated skirt that wouldn't look out of place at a Catholic High School and a little red cardigan over a pretty white blouse. There were even little flowers embroidered on the collar. She would be a tasty meal, and no doubt an exciting chase. Something so pretty, so innocent - she was like a little lamb dancing into the wolves trap.

 

Ives had walked up to her, removing the sunglasses resting on his nose so she could see his eyes. His warm brown eyes, his soft flash of teeth - for some reason he had a trusting face. It had been a lot of men's undoing, and it would now be hers. He had asked her if she needed a lift, trying to appear like the guide she had been looking for. Her cute blonde curls had bounced as she said, yes, she did need a ride and wasn't he the sweetest man for offering? The southern accent made him grin. A sweet southern belle a long way from home. He would have fun ruining her before slipping her into a pie. Or maybe a lasagne, he had been looking to experiment with his meals.

 

"Francis?"

 

Ives looked up from gazing out of the master bedroom's window and turned to see his wife step out of the bathroom. The blonde curls had grown out a little, but she was still the same sweet psychopath that he had picked up at the bus station. All candy floss and fire and brimstone.

 

"Good morning Hiero," he greeted, walking from the window over to his wife. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her giggle and blush. His Hiero. The name was fake, he knew that. But then so was his, taken off the second man he had ever killed. Her name was one of the many things he loved about her, like the fact that he had fucked her multiple times and yet when she came out of the shower she always had to wear a towel.

 

Hiero ran her hands over his shirt, her fingertips dipping into the collar. He wore no tie, had never got the hang of wearing one. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, slowly pinching his cheek. "You are so cute, Francis. I could just eat you right up."

 

He smirked at the joke. Hiero had known _fairly_ early on in their relationship what he was, and surprisingly she had embraced the lifestyle. Her line of work made body disposal a necessity, and two Wendigos with a healthy appetite was much better than cremation, burial, or letting the dogs have at them.

 

Ives stepped away from his wife to let her get dressed. He placed himself on the bed, a book about Californian history in his hands, but his eyes remained fixed upon his wife. She dropped the towel just as the wardrobe doors opened, but she didn't cover herself from his gaze again. Hiero was teasing him. She had slim little calves, wider thighs, and several deep gouges on her back that marred her pretty little skin. Ives didn't know who was responsible, nor had Hiero told him. She didn't ask about the scars on his back, and he repaid the favour.

 

The cutest little white lace briefs went on first, then a matching bra. A garter belt and stockings went on next. Then another one of her pleated little skirts and short sleeved blouses that made her look like a Sunday school teacher instead of the hired assassin that she was. Today his Hiero had a job to do. If she didn't, she wouldn't have even made it to the wardrobe without him tackling her.

 

"I'll be gone all day," Hiero explained, taking a moment to slip on a shade of lipstick and some blusher. "Want me to bring home dinner?"

 

"If you like," Ives smiled at her. "I'll be working on the book most of the day."

 

A little tale about a lost soldier first embracing and then trying to murder a group of cannibals had made him a little side money. So had the film. He wasn't interested in anything like fame; all he wanted was money and privacy. In his past life he had tried being a tour guide, but too many of his tour had gone missing for him to continue it on. This line of work meant he could write when Hiero worked, and then eat and play when she got home. There was lots of playing with Hiero.

 

"I love you darlin'," Hiero whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He knew there would be lipstick there when he looked in the mirror next.

 

"I love you too," he whispered back, surprised every time that he meant his words. Love had never been on the cards for him, only the trial to survive when most didn't, and the hunger that had become his life. But Hiero, Hiero was like no woman he had ever come across. She was like him - just as crazy, just as murderous. She was perfect.

 

X

 

_The car ride had been amusing, at least, for him. The little thing - Maggie she said her name was - wriggled in the passenger seat beside him. Sitting down, that pleated skirt barely grazed her knees. She squeezed her legs together in her wriggling and Ives couldn't stop thinking about putting his hand on her thigh, bringing it between her legs...it had been a long time since he had been so attracted to a woman._

_"Thank you for letting me stay," the blonde said, fingers toying with a little golden cross around her neck. So pretty. When she said she had nowhere for him to take her, he_ had _to volunteer his house._

_"It's no trouble at all, dear," Ives replied, turning up the long and twisted road to his place. The old houses he had lived in before had creaky floorboards and large pantries, wooden walls and birds nesting in the thatch. This one he had designed himself - all glass and steel and secret passageways. He knew the best and only ways into and out of his house - perfect to avoid angry mobs and to snatch little lambs trying to run. In_ this _house, the only loose floorboards there were he had put in himself as a little added insurance._

_Eventually they made it to his place, the lock sticking a little as they went in. His new plaything gasped and grinned as he gave her the grand tour of the house. She loved the large kitchen, fawned over the long and empty dining room. He pointed out the pool out back where he liked to swim nude, although he refrained from telling her that part. She needed to see him as a gentleman, her guiding light in the darkness of a new city. She needed to trust him right up until the point he set the pot to boil._

_"Would you care to see the guest room?"_

_His southern belle nodded, smiling as his fingers danced over the banister. The guest room was just to the left of the master bedroom and had a great view of the surrounding pool area. If he wasn't so worried about the blood and sweat on a construction site he might have considered going into architecture. "Oh this is just wonderful! Thank you so much Francis!"_

_Innocent that she was, she threw her arms around him tightly and_ squeezed _. Her pert little breasts were pushed right against his button down shirt, and he had to resist the urge to press her against the doorframe and have his way with her. But he resisted. The best method would be to seduce her over dinner, make her repay his most generous hospitality by going down on her knees, those sweet little kitten heels clacking behind her as she sucked him off._

_He missed playing with his food._

_"Well, I think I'll go start dinner now," Ives announced, pressing his hand gently to her upper arm. "You're not a vegetarian, are you?"_

_She grinned, and he was too distracted by those perky little bosoms to notice that glint in her eye. "Oh no sir. I'm a meat and potatoes girl through and through."_

_Ives chuckled at that. A perfect little lamb._

X

 

He had lived in California for a couple of centuries now. He had seen the rise of the state, seen it shudder into its current existence. He had watched people travel the slow dusty highways; he had seen people climb to the top of those tall pretty lights and fall, fall, fall. He had decided, way back when he had had enough money to _build_ his own house let alone buy one, that he wanted to settle here because he knew every inch of California like the back of his hand. Now he didn't want to move because of Hiero. She had saved him from having to spend any more centuries lost and alone.

 

Now they could spend eternity together.

 

Walking through the streets of Los Angeles he caught mirages of people he used to know from years gone by. A couple of those he thought he saw were still alive of course, Wendigos he had turned to the path in his need for companionship. None had ever lasted as long as Hiero, none of them he had felt for as much as his wife. Their service had been beautiful - little Hiero in a pretty white dress and him in his out dated military uniform. After they had signed the register, they celebrated by eating their witnesses [Hiero had drawn the line at eating the priest]. His life was different now; his pack was simply him and Hiero. A little Wendigo cub may join it in the future if his wife ever managed to persuade him into procreating.

 

This was his life now, and he would defend it with every drop of blood in his body.

 

"We got some new seasonings in, Mister Ives," Carl said as soon as he stepped in the little gourmet shop, his first stop on his shopping trip.

 

Ives smiled as he perused the new arrivals. "Fantastic, Carl. The wife and I are having someone over for dinner and some new seasoning would go down a treat."

 

While waiting for Carl to ring up and bag his purchases, Ives looked out the main shop window. A pretty little blonde was talking to a rather greasy looking man in the cafe across the street. So very out of his league she was, but that wasn't the important thing. The blonde he was sitting with was Ives' wife, all sweet and innocent and flirting with the cretin sucking on a scone.

 

It was only when the man shifted that Ives recognised him from the back water papers he read to learn about disappearances. Two small towns over a few children had turned up dead. The greasy man, a supply teacher at the junior high, had been charged but had escaped justice. One of the families had obviously hired Hiero to track him down and make him suffer. Ives watched as the man got up to use the bathroom and Hiero slipped something in his tea. An _old_ trick of hers.

 

"Will that be all, Mister Ives?" Carl asked.

 

Ives' eyes never left those belonging to his wife. "Yes, it will. I have everything that I want."

 

X

 

_Dinner was a timid affair. His lamb was dressed up in a little button hole hand-me-down with frayed stitching and another cute little skirt. He didn't dare look down to see what pair of shoes she was wearing, but if it was heels he was likely to start getting hard before he finished his 'beef'. Ives, on the other hand, had opted to wear a dinner jacket, his cigarettes within reach. Sophisticated, suave...certainly not a man who cured the meat he found in bus stations himself._

_"So, what are your plans now you're in Los Angeles?" Ives asked as they finished their main meal. He wasn't particularly interested in her answer as it was likely she would be dead by tomorrow afternoon, but he was trying to act a gentleman. Making conversation was the polite thing to do._

_His little lamb blushed. "Oh, I don't know. Find my own place, I guess. Get a new job. I'm doing freelance work at the moment after I was...fired from my last job. I want something with a bit more stability."_

_"No family?"_

_She got a curious glint in her eye at the question. He doubted the answer she gave him would be the truth, or at least only a version of it. "No, no family. They died in a house fire like a million years ago. It's just me and my saviour Jesus Christ right now."_

_He still wore his own little cross, but it had been many years since he had got down on his knees to pray. God favoured the strong, but Ives doubted God would be completely at ease with his current actions._

_"What about you? No wife or kids?" the southern belle asked, smiling politely as if it was a perfectly logical question to ask a man who lived in the middle of nowhere._

_Ives shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Women don't tend to stay long around me."_

_"Well that's their loss, then," she grinned. "I think you're positively charming."_

_Oh she was so innocent it was ridiculous. She was falling straight for his act, wouldn't even see the cleaver coming. His last house guest hadn't, and the last of him currently made up the tender meat stew they had just enjoyed. Ives supposed it was now time for dessert - a tart apple pie. Maybe then afterwards his lamb could get down on her knees for him._

_"I'll be back in a minute with dessert."_

_As he went to collect the pie and whipped cream, Ives listened to see if his guest had any indication of what would happen to her while she was staying with him. He heard...nothing. When he walked back into the dining room he found that she_ had _moved from the end of the table to right beside his chair. He sat down, resting the pie and whipped cream on the table. She put her hand on his thigh._

_"I really want to thank you for taking me in like this," she said, tightening her grip on his thigh. Ives took a large gulp of his wine, surprised by how brazen she was being. Maybe he wouldn't need to persuade her to repay him for the meal - maybe she was a good little lamb and had thought about it all on her own._

_"You're very welcome, dear."_

_She blushed. "You have such a lovely home and you've been so very kind to me. It kinda makes it hard to do this to you."_

_"Do what?" But then his mind started going blurry, and his eyes couldn't focus on the little white flowers stitched into her cardigan. His wine - he shouldn't have left her alone. He knew better than that! But how could he have known that she was playing a game? That she was a wolf in sheep's clothing, just like him?_

X

 

When Ives returned that day from shopping in the city, he found a pair of prim white panties on his welcome mat. He knew that sign - her job had gone well, and his little southern belle wanted to celebrate. Slinking through the house, Ives made his way out back to the swimming pool. Sliding through the water, naked as anything, was his wife. It was moments like these that he was glad he was a Wendigo - he would eat an entire country just to never stop seeing that sight.

 

"Job go well?" Ives asked, standing at the head of the swimming pool as his wife broke the surface. Water clung to her blonde curls, slipped over her breasts and down to the curls between her thighs. So very gorgeous. So very his.

 

Hiero giggled. "I would say so. He was begging within a minute." She reached out her hand, hoping he was a gentleman who would help a woman out of a swimming pool. He was for her [most of the time] and he did so, wrapping his arms right around his wife. Her fingers toyed with the lapel of his jacket.

 

"So you've brought dinner home?"

 

That was when Hiero stalled. Something was wrong, and that worried him. So many thoughts ran through his mind, chilling thoughts. He couldn't lose her. "Darlin', he tried to get under my skin, he said the most horrible things to me. Called me white trash, said I was going to hell. Said I was no good for anything but sucking greasy men like _him_ off," Hiero explained, her lips pouting. Ives nipped it with his teeth, making her growl like a little puppy. His wife should never be sad, never. "So I told him that he better shut his mouth or my husband will deal with him. But he didn't shut his mouth."

 

Hiero glanced anxiously to the edge of the garden and Ives followed her gaze towards the little pool hut at the edge of their property. It was supposed to be a place for them to change to swim, but Ives had made sure that neither he nor his wife actually owned a bathing suit. However, it did allow entrance to the basement where he often prepared their stocks of meat.

 

"Hiero, my dear, it's not like you to not stand up for yourself," Ives crooned into his wife's neck, slinking an arm around her knees so he could carry her around the poolside and into the little shed.

 

She bit hard on his earlobe, her tongue licking up the few drops of blood there was. "I know, darlin', I know. I just felt extra sensitive today. And I do love to see you work." He felt himself grow hard as he carried his naked wife to the shed to deal with their unwelcome quest. Killing the man who had insulted his wife before fucking her on the nearest available surface, as naked as the animals outside, seemed like a good end to the day.

 

X

 

_When Ives managed to open his eyes, he found himself tied to the guest bed. His hands were lashed to the headboard with thick rope, the harsh fibre digging into his flesh. His feet were also bound like that. He tried to move his head and managed to see that he was buck naked, his cock sticking straight up like a rod at the fair destined for hoops._

_"Now Mister Ives - Francis - are you going to behave?"_

_The bitch from the south crawled out of the shadows. She was wearing a little white negligee and her kitten heels, but that was it. The sharp little knife she held in her hands only excited Ives more. He recalled the tale of Lizzie Borden - another pretty little psychopath who wanted nothing more than to dispose of a body without any evidence leading to her. He thought about his lamb covered in blood and he became even harder._

_"My dear, if you wanted to tie me up, you didn't have to drug me," Ives grinned. "Although I have to admit it is a bit of a turn on."_

_She giggled. "You're a strange one, Francis. I wasn't sure what sort of dose to use on you, you're not that big but my gut told me to drop the entire bottle in there." His lamb grinned. "I was worried that you wouldn't wake up. I'm so glad we get to play now."_

_"Your name isn't really Maggie, is it?"_

_Blonde curls shook as she crawled over the bed, resting her little behind just in front of his cock. She continued to giggle, the knife making pretty patterns around his chest and down his abdomen. She could see how turned on he was getting, and he could smell how aroused she was. Quite a pair they were. He focussed on her pretty mouth, painted in blood red lipstick. "It's not Maggie, you're right about that. You can call me Hiero."_

_"Like the Shakespeare character."_

_"Like the tarot card," Hiero grinned, digging the knife into his side, producing a slight gash and blood. She giggled at the sight, digging her finger into the wound to collect blood on her finger. She drew a smiley face on his stomach. He was getting hungry, but not for blood. For_ her. _"I'm going to take good care of your place. You are the nicest person who has ever picked me up from the bus station, even if you are a little weird. I usually have to put ear buds in from all the screaming, but you getting turned on from this is kinda nice."_

_"Are you a serial killer?" Ives asked, testing the bonds carefully. It wouldn't need much pressure to rip them apart. He had been eating regularly - he would have the strength to rip_ her _apart if he needed it. But that wasn't going to happen - all he could think about was being inside her._

_Hiero shook her head at his question, her curls shaking. "I used to work for the CIA. Wet work, you know? But now I'm going my own way, doing my own thing."_

_An assassin. How interesting. "I will take good care of your house, Francis, I promise. It's such a shame I have to kill you, you are such a sweetie. And so handsome! I thought I had sworn off all older men, but golly gosh you are so damn handsome you get me wetter than monsoon season. I like a beard on a man. I like that against me."_

_Oh god. Ives believed he had found his perfect woman, and she was trying to kill him! Although she was frowning, now. "You know, I love killing. Gets me all warm and fuzzy inside. It's just when you've really bonded with someone, as_ we _have bonded? It's hard."_

_She was about to kill him. That was...unfortunate considering what else they could do to each other. Ives couldn't allow that to happen. Just as Hiero ran her knife over his chest, Ives reacted with a burst of speed. His hands broke through the rope and shot around her waist, throwing the knife to one side, Hiero underneath him and his cock pressed right against her milky thigh. He growled as he tore her negligee off and pushed his body against her. He could smell how desperate she was, but not afraid. Simply...intrigued._

_"What in God's name are you?" she tried, trying to struggle but she gave in at the end, jutting out her breasts for him to take._

_"God doesn't have a word for what I am. But the Indians call me Wendigo."_

_X_

The greasy man that Hiero had been dealing with was currently tied to a chair in their basement.  The man looked up at their entrance, his eyes widening when he saw Ives. They did make quite an impression, he realised. She was wearing his shirt over her wet form, her nipples poking out from under the fabric He had reduced himself to just his trousers, no shoes or socks. It's the way he preferred it. Half ma,n half animal.

 

"Who...who are you?"

 

Ives smirked and walked Hiero to the sofa right next to the man's chair. Sometimes he liked to watch her work, sometimes she loved to watch him. He placed a kiss to her hand as he left her side and stood straight in front of the man. Hiero's target was shaking, although that could have been the minor blood loss.

 

"I am Hiero's husband," Ives announced. "We've been married two years now, but I still don't like it when people insult my wife."

 

The greasy man had the right to look scared. Colonel Frances Ives was not one to be trifled with. He had eaten his way through several wars, had been present at the greatest of events and had married and made a life with an adorably psychotic assassin. He was meant to be feared, and the fear this man radiated made him grin.

 

"I just...I just...I didn't do anything!"

 

Ives turned to Hiero now lying on the sofa, her knees up, legs slightly spread, hand resting tentatively on her stomach. She gave him a coy smile and shook her head. Hiero was many things, but she preferred to take the damned on their road to hell than the virtuous who had got on the wrong side of someone. He yanked the greasy mans hair back.

 

"I highly doubt that. I know all about you." He snarled his next words. "Kids? Men, of course. Women...depends on if they interest me. But kids? I'm a cannibal, and I don't even touch kids!"

 

He took his small cigarette case and lighter out from his back pocket. Hiero kept giggling on the sofa, his little lamb knowing what would come next. Ives lit the end of his cigarette and took a few deep puffs. Tobacco would have been his undoing, and it was now one of the many perks he could enjoy. He passed the cigarette to Hiero who took a slight puff then had a coughing fit. He took the cigarette back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

 

"Isn't she perfect?" Ives said to the man. He still didn't recall his name and didn't care enough to ask. The man looked as if he disagreed, but then Hiero had drugged and tortured him a little. For anyone else, that was a mark against her. "I've lived for centuries and have never found someone as perfect as _her._ She has little cows on her slippers. Every Wednesday without fail she watches _American Idol_. And she even votes! She likes to pray with men before they die, and she likes to kill slowly." He yanked that greasy hair back. "It's one of the many things I love about her. And for you to have insulted her, to call her a whore?"

 

He took the cigarette and stubbed it out in the greasy man's eye socket. Their guest screamed and screamed, his body shaking from the sheer pain. Ives moved around to the back of the chair and loosened his bindings. He fell to the floor and tried to stand up; advancing on Hiero as if to punish her for what had befallen him. Using the old carving knife he kept in his pack pocket, Ives cut the tendons on the back of his ankles, making him crumple to his knees in front of Hiero.

 

This man, this man who had killed four children, had been brought to his end. That sort of justice warmed his old heart. Ives knelt down beside him, not wanting to get his hands dirty by touching him.

"Beg forgiveness from my wife, and I'll let you live."

 

The greasy man was too naive to realise that would never happen. He turned to Hiero and wept for his life. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please forgive me, I didn't mean to upset you! I'm sorry, please I'm so sorry!"

 

He turned his head to Ives, hoping that would be enough to keep him alive. It wasn't, not by a long shot. No one talked to his wife like that. Ives' hand broke through his chest and ripped out his heart, dropping the weak thing to the floor immediately. He didn't notice the blood splatter that was now left across his bare chest.

 

"How about we call out for some noodles my love?" Ives suggested, reaching to the sofa and picking his wife up in his arms. "I think we'd get food poisoning if we indulged in this."

 

Hiero nodded and snuggled closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She was his, and no one would ever hurt her again.

 

X

 

_"What's it like, eating humans?"_

_Ives looked up and smirked as he thought about the question. "Well it depends. You put them with some potatoes and vegetables and it's no different than having a lamb stew. I haven't eaten raw in quite some time. Forensics, you see. Hard to be a cannibal when they have DNA databases and teeth imprints."_

_Hiero giggled. He was fast becoming enraptured by the sound. Once he had explained what a Wendigo was, Hiero had been fascinated. Of course she was an assassin first and she had tried to stick a knife in him twice more, but when his mouth had ended up pressed right against her pussy and he had started lapping like a man dying of thirst, she hadn't tried again. She had been more concentrated with rubbing herself like a cat against his mouth and beard. She had stubble burns and teeth marks and hickeys all along her thighs. It would hurt come the morning, but honestly Ives never wanted to see her legs closed again._

_"Oh god in heaven," Hiero whimpered, crying out as he made her come again. She shook with her orgasm, four of his fingers inside her as she came. She looked good being fucked, looked good as she rode his mouth. To his surprise, Ives never wanted to stop doing that._

_"Francis..." Hiero whispered, sliding down his body so his aching cock was pressed right against her soaked folds. Every touch and moan made him shiver; every sensation overwhelmed his entire being. "Oh how I wish I was a little virgin for you to play with." She bit his ear. "God I can only imagine the things you could do to me."_

_"I could still do them," he whispered, nipping her collar bone. She was a magnificent lay so far, and it had been so very long since he had had sex...although he had never had sex like this. If he grew to dislike her later on he could always kill her then, but somehow he didn't think he would. "Why don't you stay for a few days. We can fuck each other...we could even kill together."_

_"Well it would be ever so nice to know someone in the city," Hiero purred. "But I don't know. I'm not very good at sharing my toys. You are ever so handsome, mind. I just can't get enough of that face. That beard, that tongue." She batted at his shoulder like a cat. "It's so very tempting Francis."_

_"Please stay," Ives found himself saying, not liking the begging note in his voice, not at_ all." _It's been a while since I've killed with anyone. I've missed it." It had been a while since he had fucked anyone more than once, and he had missed the few odd times that had happened too._

_Hiero grinned at him. "You'll cook for me?"_

_"Anyone you want me to cook, dear." He took a nipple between his teeth and tugged hard, his cock pulsing at the sound of her strangled cry. "I think it'll be fun. Please say yes, Hiero."_

_She gave him a genuine smile, full of warmth. He reciprocated with a soft smile of his own, one he hadn't worn in so long, lest he appear weak. She kissed his nose. "Oh darlin', it's going to be incredible." She looked down then and frowned at his cock. "Oh darlin', you shoulda said! I would have sucked you right off, my handsome Wendigo!"_

_"I'd rather just be inside you."_

_With another quick grin of hers, Hiero tackled him to the bed, ramming herself straight down onto him. Ives gasped, then screamed as she began to ride him. Her curls and breasts bounced with every sweet movement of her hips. Her ankles were crossed behind her, like a Sunday school teacher riding a wastrel._

_But that wasn't enough for him. He dug his fingers into her hips and threw her to the bed. His cock immediately sought out her core again, crying out when they were together once more. Ives thrust deep inside her, pulling her legs high up over his shoulders so he could take her deeper and deeper. She felt so damn good, the best fuck he had ever had. She writhed in his grasp as he took her like the animal he was._

_Ives could feel his orgasm building, and just as he came, Hiero flipped him onto his back and kissed him. He came viciously inside her, waves of pleasure rocking his body hard. But all he could feel was Hiero's lips slowly slipping over his, gentle and soft in a way he had never known could give pleasure. It was almost...loving._

X

After they showered together they waited for the Chinese to arrive. They had left the delivery man alive - they didn't kill _everyone_ they came across _._ They were currently curled up in front of the fire, Ives stroking Hiero's back. Three years together was quite something. But then it was a common occurrence for fucking to turn into love. At least, that was according to all the trashy magazines Hiero read and Ives didn't care for.

 

All he knew was that living and killing and eating and fucking with Hiero had led to a realisation that he didn't want to do any of those without her.  Her overjoyed [try screaming so hard the neighbours called the police] reaction to his proposal had made him believe that Hiero felt the same way. They were in love, and that love was ultimately bigger than both of them.

 

"When we were dealing with the guest downstairs, I noticed that you kept touching your stomach when you thought I wasn't looking," Ives whispered, stroking Hiero's hair. He had thought he had been imagining it, but when they had got dressed earlier she had done the same thing. How could he have not have realised this before? "Is there something you want to tell me dear?"

 

Hiero snuggled into his side. "I wasn't sure how you'd react. You know, cute little baby in this big old house."

 

Ives slipped a hand over his wife's stomach. Of all the things he had done over his life time, of all the creatures he had created, this little thing growing in the woman he loved was the greatest of all. He drew patterns on her stomach, kissing her ear. He didn't want her to be sad, didn’t want her to be worried. He would do anything for her.

 

"It would mean a change. Would mean being more careful. We'd have to give it a choice of course. Cannibalism or Christianity." Hiero punched him in the shoulder. "I suppose it's about time I made some Wendigo cubs. I'm so glad it's with you."

 

They shared a kiss, hands linked over Hiero's pregnant stomach. They wouldn't be the most conventional of families, but it would be the first one that either of them had ever had. Ives had always believed himself to be a lone wolf, always trying to survive. Now he would be in charge of his own pack, protecting and loving them the best way he could. In all his years on this Earth he had been struggling for a place, struggling to create a family that had been denied to him for so long because he had been so weak. But now he was strong, now he would have his family and now he would live his own version of the American Dream.

 

And to think, he had had second thoughts about going to the bus station for dinner that day. It was almost enough to make him thank his wife's God.

 

Almost.  __


End file.
